


O. C. Life

by 6YearsABrave



Series: O. C. [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 03:13:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15063788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/6YearsABrave/pseuds/6YearsABrave
Summary: A tale of the Wild West.Slim and Peppers are about to embark on a whole new adventure.





	O. C. Life

It was the year 1891, and it was south of the border of Mexico and California. The sun blazed, searing, one-hundred degree heat, over the sturdy roof of a large, brand new house in the desert. Two horses were tied under a tin shade awning, drinking greedily from their water trough, while carrots and other warm-weather vegetables grew in a garden nearby behind a tall fence lined with spiny cactuses. A man emerged from the house, his hat shading his bright blue eyes and his spurs glinting in the sun, almost blinding the horses. He tossed some scraps to some pigs and chickens, who sunbathed in the mud, and then gathered up several of the ripe veggies, then retreated back inside. 

The man tossed his hat onto a neat wooden table. “Got to be over a hundred now,” he said to someone else in the back of the large, high-ceilinged living room. “I think it’s about time to make another water run.”

“I just did, yesterday,” a deep voice replied from behind an open newspaper. “The well’s been runnin’ low.” The man’s feet, in brand new dark leather cowboy boots, were neatly propped on another table. 

Slim Pickens, the first man, sighed, wiping sweat from his brow. “Well, how am I going to do it? That damn horse nearly killed me the other day.”

“Again?” 

“He’s wild. I can’t believe we had to get him, out of all the horses in the west.”

“Oh, there’s plenty a’ horses like him in the west. Salty used to be like that with me, believe it or not.”

“Well, you mind taming him for me?” Slim asked. “Just ‘til we get our own well?”

“We’ve already been over this,” the other man, appropriately named Peppers, replied, looking up at Slim. “He has to trust _you_. He’s _your_ horse.”

The new, stolen stallion hadn’t even had time to be named yet because he’d caused so many problems. He nearly broke Peppers’ arm when he made off with him from one of the ranches outside town. But Slim had to have a horse, and what were they going to do with the new one? Return him?

“Let me just take Salty.”

Peppers sighed. Sometimes the life of an outlaw was not so peachy – even when he was at home. “We’ll work on it later. Go get that water, anyhow.” He turned back to the newspaper he had been reading. “Oh, and, uh…” Peppers added awkwardly, before Slim put his hat back on and was about to step out the door, “watch out. There’s been some public disturbances recently…from what I hear.” 

Slim smirked but also smiled. “That’s okay, Peppers,” he replied cutely. “You don’t have to take care of me, remember?” 

 

San Diego was a budding, almost cute little town. Over the last year, especially, it had grown to have a personality all its own and the people were just starting to feel at home there. Sure, there were still outlaws and no-goods and vagabonds running around, but that was life no matter where you lived or at what time. And San Diego had had its fair share, even as it had grown to be more stable; but what followed the booming, prosperous spring of 1891 was a summer no one could have anticipated – least of all, young Slim Pickens.

He rode into town on Salty, keeping the brim of his hat low over his face, not only because of the blazing sun, but because he was now a known associate of Peppers. Not necessarily an outlaw, but where he went, trouble had a chance of following, and the people knew it. 

Fortunately for him, that wasn’t exactly the case today.

A double gunshot rang out from somewhere in the town square as Slim rode up, catching his and everyone else’s attention. People sprang up and rushed around, to porches or behind buildings or wherever was closest to safety, chittering and speculating as to what was going on. Slim quickly ruled out Vivador’s Saloon, as no one was running out and he didn’t hear any bottles breaking. As soon as he’d made this observation, however, people did start running out the doors of the San Diego General Free Man’s Bank. 

He rode up to it, unnoticed and undeterred. He heard a woman’s voice, yelling defiantly, followed by a couple more gunshots from inside. Salty started hoofing the ground nervously, and Slim pulled up on the reins. Not a minute later, the woman he’d heard charged outside with a large, full bag over her shoulder.

She was nearly dressed in rags, with a dirty, yet pretty face, and long, tangled red hair. She ran up to another horse that was waiting on the other side of the doors, fire in her bright green eyes and gun still in her hand. She couldn’t have been any older than Slim. 

All onlookers only watched in fear and awe as she took off on her super-fast stallion, not noticing any of them, getting away with her heist with admirable ease. She took off toward the west, only kicking up dust and leaving no trace or clues. 

Slim had forgotten all about the water. It was a good thing that he and Peppers didn’t use the General Free Man’s Bank. 

Southern California had _another_ outlaw.

 

“Cherry Jack.”

“What?”

Peppers handed Slim his newspaper back at their house. “She’s called Cherry Jack, according to this,” he explained after Slim told him what had just happened. “Former whore. Very rebellious. They don’t really know much about her, except that now she’s into crime.” Peppers stood up. “An’ she’s apparently got a knack for it.” 

“Well maybe this is a good thing,” Slim said after a shake of his head. “Maybe they won’t pay attention to us anymore, if everyone’s after her.” 

“Good reasonin’,” Peppers agreed with a slight grin.

 

Not a week later, a newcomer arrived in San Diego. 

He was dressed all in black, from head to foot, and his horse was also tar-black. His spurs glinted terrifyingly in the merciless sun and his dark hair was slicked back neatly beneath his fine hat. His face was perfectly clean-shaven, his skin shockingly white and his eyes had an ambitious, almost bloodthirsty gleam. Once his gaze was on you, it was like every secret you ever had was suddenly exposed, and you were totally helpless. His four guns were strapped to his belt like he was ready for war as he rode into town. 

On his shirtfront was a shiny, silver star that read, ‘Sheriff’.

 

“We have to get him tamed, Peppers!”

“No one can tame him but you.” The argument had been going on for two weeks about Slim’s poor horse. “Just start out gentle, like I said.”

The two of them were heading for bed late one warm night and the matter still hadn’t been settled. “How can you be gentle with a complete monster?” Slim was getting very frustrated, and Peppers could tell.

“He’s not a complete monster,” Peppers replied, trying to keep calm himself.

“He nearly stepped on me! On purpose!” 

“Well then you need to change your approach!” Peppers sighed, sitting on their bed. “Have you tried giving him treats?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Still wants to kill me.”

“What about extra water?”

Slim shook his head. “He’s a waste of it at this point.”

“What?”

“He’s not drinking any more until he lets me ride him,” Slim said with an attitude that Peppers hadn’t heard before. “Water is too scarce nowadays.”

It surprised him, greatly. He stood up. “You are starving your horse until he cooperates? You realize how fuckin’ stupid that is?”

Slim didn’t answer right away, only looked at Peppers. “…What the hell else am I supposed to do?”

“ _Hey, I want him to like me, I think I’ll punish him?_ Is _that_ your train of thought?”

Slim wrung his hands. “Fine! Waste the goddamn water on him! I don’t care at this point, it’s not gonna work anyway!” 

Peppers abruptly left their room, quickly pulled on his boots, and went outside. Sure enough, Slim’s fidgety horse was tied separate from Salty and the water trough. He re-tied Salty next to Slim’s (with great care) and moved the water over to him. He drank quite greedily. He hadn’t asked Slim how long he’d been without water. 

Standing on the porch, watching the horses drink, made Peppers sigh. The night was actually quite pleasant and it was rather late. Not many people would be out right now.

So after letting Salty take a few more drinks, Peppers mounted him and headed for town. 

 

Peppers’ tanned face was low underneath his hat when he entered Vivador’s saloon. Not looking up at first, he was never quite sure how the young woman jumped over the bar so quickly and quietly – but she did.

When he did look up there were two dead men lying one in front, one behind the bloodied bar. A pretty young woman with red hair was scurrying out a back door before Peppers could utter a single word. 

Dumbfounded as she disappeared, Peppers ran over to the two dead. One was the bartender, who held a gun, the other an older, unfamiliar man. One hand was down his pants.   
The saloon doors croaked open. “Hold it right there, _sir_.”

Peppers had drawn his gun in the blink of an eye as he turned around to behold a man dressed all in black with a pale complexion and a shiny star on his shirt – a gun of his own aimed back at him. “Oh, shit,” he mumbled. 

“That’s right,” the sheriff said in a deep, quiet voice. “Drop that for me, please.” He motioned to Peppers’ gun.

Peppers trained his eyes right on the sheriff, intending to burn a couple of holes in him and make him shrivel back out the door. Instead, his match was met with an equally toxic gaze. This man oozed authority – and if there was one thing Peppers did not like, it was authority. 

“And?” The outlaw asked coolly.

The sheriff raised his chin. The air became thick with tension. “And I let you live.” 

Peppers made his decision. His gun clattered to the floor. “She just left.”

“She?”

“That Cherry girl.” 

A moment of silence passed before the sheriff repeated, “That Cherry girl.”

“Yeah.”

The sheriff slowly walked closer then, each footstep of his boots on the wood floor ringing out like death knells in the silent saloon. He came right up to Peppers’ face, which towered a good three or four inches taller. 

“And just why should I believe that?” Peppers could smell the tobacco on his breath. “Because I’m new in town?” The sheriff gently poked Peppers’ side with his gun barrel and took his wrists, handcuffing them. “My name’s Sheriff Martin Black,” he whispered right in Peppers’ ear, tickling it. “Don’t wear it out.” 

 

Slim woke up the following morning, feeling surprisingly refreshed after the tension of the previous night. Sitting up, he found he was alone in the bed.

Yawning and stretching, he went out into the living room. Rubbing his eyes, he realized Peppers wasn’t there. He went out to the front porch. Salty was also absent. His own horse was nuzzled protectively over the water trough. 

“Where the hell is he?” He mumbled to himself, going back inside. 

 

Peppers was awakened from his slumber by the sound of a defiant woman’s yelling. 

“Let me _go!_ ” She screamed, kicking at the door of Sheriff Black’s office as he dragged a redheaded woman inside. They had burst in around eleven o’clock the following morning, Peppers guessed, from behind the bars of his cell, where he’d been dozing since the previous night. 

“Now listen here, you little whore,” the sheriff snarled in her ear as she squirmed, “picking fruits that’s on sale tables is the wrong place to pick fruits.” He yanked the neighboring cell to Peppers’ open and flung the woman inside roughly. Slamming it shut, the woman recovered just in time to grab the bars and shake them once they’d locked her in. 

“You won’t get away with this,” she snarled under her breath as the sheriff left the office. 

“ _That’s_ what you finally get nabbed for?” Peppers asked incredulously. “Stealin’ _fruit?_ ”

She shot him a nasty look. “I ain’t proud of it,” she said in a deep, anger laced tone. Then she paused, looking him up and down. “Hey…”

“Yeah,” Peppers said with a grin. “You’re the reason I’m in here, bitch. Serves you right.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re just a perfect little angel too,” the woman replied, sneering. 

“Why’d you have to go all apeshit in Vivador’s?”

“That man tried to fuck me right across the bar,” she replied with equal venom. “But that ain’t Cherry Jack no more. This is preferable,” she said, her tone softening, motioning to their surroundings.

There was a silence. “Yeah,” Peppers agreed. “It is.”

“What?”

“You’ve had a hard life too, ain’tcha?”

“Anything’s better than the life of a whore,” she said quietly. “That’s why I gave it up.”

Peppers nodded, ever so slightly. “Me too.”

Cherry looked up at him, abruptly. “What’d you say?”

There was a pause. “I’m saying, I know how you feel.” 

“I’m confused,” she said. “You’re a man.”

“Yeah,” Peppers nodded. “And who says that to some outlaws, young orphan boys can’t be whores?” 

A horrified look transformed Cherry’s face. 

“But that’s far in the past now,” Peppers continued. “Obviously.” A slight smile played at the corner of his mouth. “I killed that kid-fucker and started my own new life. Never looked back.” He looked back at Cherry. “Kinda’ like you.”

Cherry’s mouth was literally hanging open. “Who are you?” She spluttered.

“I am one who believes he can survive anything,” Peppers replied. 

 

Doing the day’s chores over the long, hot afternoon didn’t bring Peppers back. Slim kept glancing out the window, hoping to see a brown horse and powerfully built rider coming up across the horizon, but he saw no one. 

The time finally came for dinner. Still no Peppers. _He never told me about a raid or anything,_ Slim thought. _Where else does he have to go? Is he hiding something from me?_

He went out to the porch again, shaking his head.

 

Slim paced back and forth across the living room floor, no idea what exactly to do other than to go out and search for Peppers. He was probably in town. The only problem was he would have to take his own horse.

After forcing some dinner down he set out, steel resolve driving his feet forward toward the horse.

“Come on,” he said softly, partly to the horse and partly to himself. “Come on. You’re just a horse.”

The horse pawed at the ground and pulled slightly on his rope. 

Slim approached. Holding out his hands in front of him, he slowly came close enough to grip the saddle. The horse didn’t lash out. Slim tried to stroke his head. The horse shook him off. “Okay,” he said to himself, and somehow, successfully mounted. 

Once he unhooked the bridle from the post, however, it was a different story.

 _“Whoa!!”_ He cried as the horse took off, Slim barely able to hang on and steer him in the right direction. That horse was fast – and didn’t give a hoot that Slim was on his back. At least he hadn’t been stepped on or thrown – yet.

The wind whipped Slim’s face as they bolted toward town, across the desert and across the border. Slim barely remembered to watch out for Peppers and Salty on the way.   
Once they finally reached town (it wasn’t too long) Slim used all his might to slow the horse to a respectable speed so he wouldn’t crash into anything. He tried stroking him, with no luck. Finally he pulled a horse treat from his pocket – a carrot.

“Here!” He cried, and flung it out to the ground in front of him.

He took the bait. Stumbling to a stop, the horse nuzzled the carrot up off the ground and enjoyed it long enough for Slim to dismount. “There, there,” he whispered. Giving him another treat, he was able to lead him over to Vivador’s saloon, where he had noticed a restless Salty was tied. 

Poking his head in, he eagerly scanned the room, but there was no sign of the man he loved. Slim became very confused. He then poked around all the neighboring shops, bank, and general store. Nothing. 

Finally he came to the sheriff’s office. There was nowhere left to look. 

He had never been inside the sheriff’s office, luckily. There hadn’t been a sheriff in San Diego in a few years. Most of them ended up dead. 

Since he was out of treats, he tied the now-restless horse right outside the door and, taking a deep breath, went in. 

It wasn’t big. Rather, it was a simple little office with a desk and shelves on one side of the room and a couple of closed jail cells on the other side. Jail cells where Peppers and a pretty, redheaded woman sat, in each their own cell, right up next to each other, whispering in each other’s ears.

“What the hell?” Slim blurted.

The two prisoners’ heads spun. They barely noticed Slim come in, they were so engulfed in their conversation. 

“Slim!” Peppers said in surprise, hastily and guiltily pulling away from Cherry. He got up and went to the edge of the bars, grabbing them in an effort to get close to Slim. “Slim – San Diego has a sheriff!”

Slim crossed his arms, upset all over again. “And?”

“And…I didn’t do anything, but he got me!” He looked back at Cherry in desperation. “’Cause of her!”

Slim’s expression went from upset to flat-out angry. “So all I want to do is discipline the damn horse and you go run off with – with _another outlaw?_ ”

 _Slim,_ Peppers mouthed, shaking his head, but the name didn’t take form. His face fell.

“I thought you weren’t like that!”

“I’m not!” Peppers thundered, gripping the bars of the cell so hard Cherry thought they might snap.

“What the hell is going on here?” She asked.

Slim pulled his gun on her, sucking in his breath. “You shut your damn whore mouth.”

“Slim!” Peppers cried. He’d never used that begging, pleading tone with him before. 

It jarred Slim. “What?” He snapped.

“Let me explain.” Peppers took a deep breath. “For the love of the west, put your gun up.”

“I don’t owe the west nothin’.”

“Then for me?” Peppers pleaded.

Slim’s hand shook. “What were you doin’?”

“Exchanging stories,” Peppers said, “and information.”

Slim paused, noting the frightened, confused look on Cherry’s face, then holstered his gun. “What kind of stories and information?”

“She’s just like us,” Peppers insisted. He reached through the bars to try to take Slim’s hand, but Slim wouldn’t come close enough. “A hopeless outlaw.”

Slim stared at Peppers, hard. Peppers stared back – but not intimidatingly. 

“You know that I only love you,” Peppers practically whispered. “Can you see if there’s some way to get us out of here?”

“That depends,” Slim countered, as someone else walked in the door of the office. 

It was a man and woman in their forties or fifties, both with blond hair and wearing fancy clothes. They were obviously looking for the sheriff – but when they caught sight of Slim, they stopped without a word and just stared at him, confused. 

Slim had stopped dead too. 

“M-muh-muh-mmm…” He started spluttering and stuttering uncontrollably, shaking his head, much to Peppers’ surprise. Slim backed away from the couple, his back plastering against Peppers’ cell like he was deathly afraid of them. 

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Peppers asked amid the confusion.

The man shook his head in disbelief as he said, “I’m Mr. Walton Pickens.”

Another tense moment of silence passed as the couple stared at the other three in the sheriff’s office, and the other three stared back. 

Slim finally wrung his hands and burst out, “Why the hell did you have to kick me out?”

“That’s in the past now,” Mr. Pickens said flatly. _“Slim.”_

“These are your _parents?_ ” Peppers spluttered in shock.

“We thought you were surely dead by now,” Mr. Pickens said in an annoyed tone once he’d gotten over his shock. “We need water. Where’s the sheriff?”

“He ain’t in,” Peppers put in. “I thought Slim had no family.”

“He doesn’t,” Mrs. Pickens said simply.

“…I’m confused.”

Slim turned around and faced Peppers. “They abandoned me,” he said, steely grit creeping into his voice, as these words were very hard to say, “because I preferred men.” He turned back to his parents, anger in his eyes. “About ten years ago.”

Peppers shook his head. _“What?”_ He exclaimed. “That can’t be true, that’s ridiculous!”

“Hush, criminal,” Mr. Pickens said. 

“Who disowns their own child because they aren’t just like everyone else? Because they aren’t just like _you?_ ”

“I said hush!”

“Slim’s the best person I’ve ever met!” Peppers shouted. “He saved my life! He gave up a chest of gold to save me! I owe him everything!”

“Who are you?” Mr. Pickens asked Peppers, his interest having been piqued, but was ignored.

“Who wouldn’t want a son like that? I would stay in here for fucking _ever_ if he could go free!”

At that Slim turned slowly, a softened look in his eyes, and looked at Peppers. He still stood right behind him, clutching and pulling at the bars. Cherry still huddled in the back, silent.   
“What did you say?” Slim asked in a voice barely above a whisper. 

Peppers looked back at him, almost tenderly. He nodded slightly. “Because I love you.”

Mr. Pickens, however, wasn’t so touched. “So you like men instead of women and not only men, but _outlaws?_ ” He sneered at Slim. 

He turned to Peppers. “You’re the famous Peppers, aren’t you?” He asked, pointing a rude finger.

“Yes I am,” Peppers replied calmly, with a hint of pride. “And I believe I’ve got a bigger heart than you do.”

Slim’s father shook his head in anger. “That’s it,” he said, going to the front porch of the office and ringing the large bell that hung from the ceiling there. “Emergency!” He yelled at the top of his lungs out into the town square. “Emergency! Arrest this man!” His wife followed, along with Slim, who they made an effort to keep their distance from. 

Not even a minute later Sheriff Black appeared, on the other side of the square, running on foot toward his office at top speed. Slim’s horse still fidgeted, tied to the post out front, hungry for more treats, becoming more nervous as the man in black approached fast. 

Slim could almost count down the seconds perfectly until the sheriff approached as he drew his gun, prepared for anything. Much to his pleasant surprise, he was preparing for nothing.

His horse reared up on his hind legs just as Sheriff Black got within four feet of him. Giving a great whinny, the horse’s hooves came down onto the sheriff with a sickening thud, kicking him to the dirt and knocking him out cold.

Slim immediately trained his gun on his parents. 

“Now, Slim!” His father said, panicking, he and his wife raising their hands. “Think before you do this!...We didn’t _do_ anything!”

“Oh I think you did,” Slim growled from between clenched teeth. He motioned back to the office. “Inside, now!”

They obeyed. Once they were safely inside Slim ran to the motionless sheriff and pulled his guns and keys off his belt, taking care that the horse was alright. He was – and Slim even got to scratch his neck affectionately. “Good boy.” 

He ran back inside to find his father training a gun of his own back at him. It had turned into a Mexican standoff rather quickly – but Slim had the high ground. He tossed the sheriff’s keys to Peppers, who quickly got to work unlocking his and Cherry’s cells. 

“If you pull that trigger I’m gonna have to kill you from behind,” Peppers said in a low tone to Slim’s father from behind him. “And I don’t think you want that.” 

Slim tossed Peppers one of the sheriff’s guns. Now Mr. and Mrs. Pickens had no choice.

He raised his hands, dropping his gun. “You won’t get away with this, Slim.”

“Into the cell,” Slim said, motioning to Peppers’ vacated one.

They got in and Peppers relocked it. Then Peppers went outside, dragged in the sheriff’s limp body, and threw him into what was Cherry’s cell. 

“Now,” Slim started, and trailed off. “Now what?”

Cherry started to laugh.

 

The door of the mayor’s office was kicked open. “Hands above your head,” Slim said authoritatively to the man behind the desk, a gun pointed at him. No one else was in the room.   
Mayor Easley could hear the sounds of a scuffle outside his office. Another moment passed and he heard a couple of gunshots. He quickly raised his hands. 

“That’s it,” Slim said quietly. “Now come out from behind that desk and come with me and you won’t get hurt.”

The mayor of San Diego obeyed Slim Pickens. 

Once they had left the mayor’s office Peppers and Cherry caught up with them. They had dispatched all the mayor’s bodyguards – with relative speed and ease. 

Even Slim was impressed. “Let’s get this guy back to the sheriff’s office so we can get going,” he said to them both with raised eyebrows. 

Peppers sidled up to Slim, smiling at the mayor. “Good idea.” 

 

Peppers raised a shot glass to Slim, and then to Cherry. “Viva San Diego!”

“Viva San Diego!” The others repeated, taking their shots and then slamming them down on the table back at Peppers’ and Slim’s house. 

“To not being wanted!” Slim cried.

“And finally living the high life!” Cherry added.

Peppers grinned. “Now,” he said, “whatever you two want, whatever you two can think of – we can get to doing it. We’re the kings of California.”

Slim grinned back. “Am I dreaming?”

Peppers shook his head. “You sure aren’t, baby.”


End file.
